


Built For Sin

by mandatorily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-26
Updated: 2010-02-26
Packaged: 2017-11-01 22:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandatorily/pseuds/mandatorily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants to know what Sam tastes like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Built For Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "You taste like heaven, but God knows you're built for sin."—Framing Hanley  
> Warnings: Frottage, incest, bathroom!sex. This is basically just porn.  
> Notes: Written for Week #15 @ http://fandom-fridays.livejournal.com/.

It’s been building between them for years. A thousand touches, hundreds of stolen glances, the sexual tension so strong it’s almost smothering at times. But they fight it. They fight so damn hard not to take the final step, that final long, slide down into depravity.

Dean’s resistance finally breaks in Des Moines as Sam’s stepping out of the shower behind him, his long body dripping wet, steam rising from his skin. It’s a body built for sin, and Dean aches to know how all that skin tastes against his tongue. Dean grips the bathroom counter, fingers digging into the wood, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t resist the urge to lick one of those drops off Sam’s neck.

Turning around he reaches out, sliding his hand up Sam’s arm from wrist to shoulder, water making Sam’s heated skin slick against Dean’s palm. Sam jumps at the first contact, eyes going wide. “Dean?”

Dean shakes his head, slides his hand further up, gripping Sam’s neck, pulling him in. “Don’t talk,” he says, spreading his legs and settling Sam in the V of his thighs. They’re both half-hard and heat surges through Dean’s veins when Sam moans at that first touch -- chest to chest, hips to hips. 

Water soaks Dean’s clothes, but he hardly notices, mesmerized by a drop of liquid slipping along Sam’s collarbone. Leaning in he puts his lips on Sam’s neck, skin and bone firm under his tongue. Sam’s skin tastes something like Dean imagines Heaven would taste if you could roll it on your tongue like candy. Sweet, warm, smoothe and soft.

That touch of flesh to skin is like a dam breaking and Sam shoves him away hard enough that Dean’s back cracks against the counter. But he could really give a fuck less, since Sam’s hands are fumbling with his zipper, and Sam’s towel has slid to the floor.

“Want these off. Now.” Sam says, voice low and guttural.

Batting Sam’s hands away, Dean shucks his pants and boxers before slipping out of his shirt, kicking the pile of clothes out from under his feet.

Dean’s never considered himself the type to enjoy being manhandled, but when Sam picks him up, slamming him onto the counter, he nearly comes just from how fucking hot he finds Sam taking charge. “Son of a bitch, Sammy. God.”

Sam’s smile is predatory as he slides between Dean’s spread legs, until finally -- fucking _finally_ \-- their cocks are pressed together, both moaning at the sensation.

“Can’t fucking wait, Dean. Can’t make this last,” Sam gasps against Dean’s neck, mouth latching onto Dean’s earlobe.

“Who fucking said anything about waiting?” Dean manages to say before Sam’s huge hand is wrapped around both their dicks jerking fast and rough and dirty.

A few tight, swift tugs later they’re both coming, foreheads pressed together, staring each other down.

“Holy fucking Christ,” Sam gasps, smile slow and satisfied.

Dean laughs, head dropping into the crook of Sam’s neck, tongue sneaking out for one last taste of Heaven. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Sammy.”


End file.
